


The one with the lap dance

by RedSkittleCure



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Lapdance, M/M, Truth or Dare, cliche plot devices, some kind of college au, well okay only a little bit of truth or dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7608448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSkittleCure/pseuds/RedSkittleCure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just turn the fucking song on, Mikey, I don’t give a fuck if you don’t think it’s appropriate enough,” Frank says, frowning.</p><p>“Oh excuse me, Frank, for not thinking that Closer by Nine Inch Nails is a good lap dance song,” Mikey retorts, tone dry, and Gerard snorts a laugh.</p><p>Frank shrugs, “It’s fitting.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one with the lap dance

**Author's Note:**

> I only wrote this because I've burned through over a thousand frerard fanfic and I couldnt find a SINGLE lap dance fic and I really wanted one, and it was going to be really hot and smutty but then it ended up like this and can't say i'm that sorry for it. also I'm actually shit at writing smut and or kiss scenes so sorry not sorry. Also this bitch turned really fucking long, like I have never written something this fucking long, go through my (four) works if you think I'm joking, five hundred words is like my average so fucking 2,700 is a god damned surprise.
> 
> Title stolen from Friends bc i've been marathoning and i can't think of titles.

Gerard’s not too sure how exactly he ended up here, but he's not exactly loath to end it.

They’re sitting in someone's basement, Pete’s probably, gathered together in a circle playing what Gerard is sure had started out as spin the bottle but has turned into the bastard child of spin the bottle and strip truth or dare, because apparently they’re all still in high school.

Mikey is on his left, Pete is on his right, Frank is directly across from him, and that, Gerard thinks, is the amount of people in the circle that he actually knows.

That’s not exactly the truth, if Pete is actually playing, Patrick has to be, and Gerard is pretty sure that Ray followed them down here; his mind is just not exactly in the clearest state at the moment because Frank has been sitting across from him without a shirt on since the third spin and they’ve been playing this damn game for forty fucking minutes.

It’s not like Gerard’s never seen Frank shirtless before, _he has_ , and he’s always been able to keep it in his fucking pants, it’s just he's been in Gerard’s direct line of sight for so long that the urge to touch, to feel, is coursing through his veins, hammering so loudly that his vision is clouding and he’s all but vibrating out of his fucking skin.

“Gerard,” Pete says, startling him out of his thoughts, “dude, I think it’s your turn.”

Oh. Gerard blushes, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares and Pete’s all knowing smirk. He ignores the tightening in his stomach and leans forward to grab the Budweiser bottle serving as the spinner.

Mikey leans over, mouth close to Gerard’s ear, “Try to actually flick your wrist when you spin.”

Gerard blushes, again, intent on ignoring Mikey and his cryptic bullshit, before quickly glancing up through his lashes at Frank and spinning.

He flicks his wrist.

He waits, enraptured by the spin of the bottle and the way Frank’s lip ring glints in the basement’s dim, yellow light.

It lands on Patrick.

Gerard tries not to let his sigh sound too disappointed. Pete smirks at him anyways.

Gerard narrows his eyes, “Okay, Patrick. Truth or dare?”

Patrick glances at Pete before looking at Gerard with trepidation in his eyes, “Truth? No, no wait, no. Dare.”

“Dare?” Gerard asks, forgetting enough about shirtless Frank that his anxiety momentarily fades, “You’re sure now?”

Patrick glares, and with the beginnings of a snarl on his lips, says, “Yes, Gerard. Dare.”

Gerard grins and makes eye contact with Frank, who winks at him.

Fuck. Gerard’s heart starts beating so loud everyone in the house can fucking hear it; he presses on, desperately reminding his body that Frank only winked because this is the prime opportunity to finally push Patrick’s oblivious ass into Pete’s waiting arms (because they’re so immature that only high school tactics are apparently fucking sure fire), not because it was a come on.

His body disagrees, but fuck his body.

“All right, Patrick, I dare you to…” Gerard fades out, rolling his neck and taking his time to glance at everyone in the room whilst Pete actually _vibrates_ next to him.

Mikey elbows him, soft enough that it doesn’t hurt but hard enough to make a point. Gerard glances at him out of the corner of his eye and subtly nods,

“I dare you to, hmm, kiss…” a beat, “Pete,” Gerard finishes, grinning mischievously. 

Frank catches his eye again and grins, bright and blinding. Gerard’s heart nearly stop beating, because a half naked Frank apparently makes Gerard forget how to act like a normal person.

Patrick clears his throat, “Uh, can I just take my shirt off and skip this turn?”

Pete deflates, leaning heavily into Gerard, and Gerard feels a flare of irritation towards Patrick. Still, all he needs is a push, Gerard reminds himself, “No,” he finally grits out, “and you can’t just kiss me either.”

Pete perks up just as fast as he went down, and Patrick turns a brilliant shade of red before crawling over to kneel in front of him.

“Uh, please don’t take this the wrong way,” Patrick starts, and Frank rolls his eyes at Gerard. Pete cuts Patrick’s next words off by cupping his face with gentle hands and staring at Patrick with such a look of adoration, Gerard has to avert his eyes. He watches out of his peripheral vision anyways, and blushes as Pete slowly leans in to kiss Patrick. 

He stops watching, and then he can’t help but to glance up at Frank again, only to have him take his breath away, because Frank is looking at Pete and Patrick with a look on his face that Gerard’s never seen in all ten years of knowing him. Absently, Gerard wishes Frank would look at him with that kind of intensity.

And then Frank does.

One second Frank’s gaze is on Pete and Patrick making out next to him, the next his eyes are on Gerard with such a heat in them that he’s pretty sure Frank just set him on fire.

Gerar doesn’t know where to look anymore, because he’s almost afraid that if he keeps staring into Frank’s eyes, at least two things will happen: one, Frank will somehow figure out how Gerard really feels about him, and two, the last shreds of Gerard’s fading willpower will finally give up the ghost and he’ll crawl over into Frank’s lap and reenact that show Pete and Patrick are putting on.

After a moment’s hesitation, Gerard settles his gaze on the scorpion tattooed on the side of Frank’s neck, which, in retrospect, is just as bad as staring into his eyes was, because Gerard is immediately flooded with thoughts of tracing it with his tongue, and Gerard’s willpower almost completely disappears.

Fuck does Frank need to put his shirt back on.

Fuck, Gerard needs a smoke… and a new fucking sense of self preservation.

Besides him, Mikey clears his throat, “Alright you two, as much as some of us have enjoyed the show, the rest of us would like to continue the game.” And then, after Pete flips him off without separating himself from Patrick, Mikey all but throws himself across Gerard to force them apart. At Mikey’s touch, they finally separate and Patrick immediately tries to scramble backwards, only to be stopped by Pete’s arms wrapping around his waist and tugging him back in for a hug.

Patrick looks like he wants to argue, but when Pete nuzzles his neck and whispers something into his ear, all of the fight drains out of his face and turns around in Pete’s arms before melting back into him with a smile on his face.

They make for a fucking adorable picture, and despite the faint tugs of jealousy deep inside his gut, Gerard smiles a smug smile at them.

Patrick raises an eyebrow in his direction and spins the bottle.

The game continues.

Frank doesn’t lose any more clothes, Mikey gets the numbers of at least two girls and gives Ray a hickey, the bottle conveniently stops landing on Pete and Patrick, and by the time the game starts wrapping up, Gerard’s starting to feel pretty confident he’ll be able to get out of this unharmed.

Until Mikey spins again and it lands on Pete and Patrick. And he dares them to kiss again, “but this time keep it under a minute.”

Gerard starts to get up and leave after they finish, only for Mikey to stop him and tug him back into place with a sharp, “sit down you fucker, you’ll like how this ends,” in his ear.

He’s probably not going to like how it ends, but for some unknown reason he stays anyway.

Pete spins the bottle this time, and and after what feels like the world’s longest spin, it lands on Frank.

“Last turn, so make it count,” Mikey says, looking meaningfully at Pete, who wiggles his eyebrows back.

Gerard’s eyes grow wide as Frank stares at him with amusement written all over his face.

Pete is grinning like the cat who ate the canary, and after a brief whisper to Patrick, says, “Alright, Frankie, truth or dare?”

Frank gives him the most punk rock look he can muster (Gerard knows, he helped Frank classify it), before licking his lips, leaning forward, and playfully growling out, “Dare me, motherfucker.”

Pete looks like Patrick just proposed.

Gerard must have woken up in hell this morning.

“Frank, give Gerard a lap dance,” Pete states bluntly, without even trying to give pretext.

Yup, he’s definitely in hell. Gerard blushes so hard his face is on fire as he frantically scrambles for something to say that will relieve the tension until he sees Frank nodding, _fucking nodding_ , and rising to his feet with a glint in his eye that matches his lip ring.

He slinks over to Gerard and pulls him up with a swift tug, stating, “Gee, baby, you gotta be in a chair so we can do this right,” and Gerard’s brain short circuits.

When he comes back online, Frank is gently pushing him down onto a chair that came from somewhere, probably Mikey, and standing in front of Gerard, pointing at something over Gerard’s shoulder with a determined look on his face.

Gerard falls even more in love, because Frank is his best friend and the most caring person he knows, and he’s putting his whole fucking heart into a stupid dare a love drunk Pete gave him. He looks so determined to do a good job that Gerard desperately wants to call it off, just tell Pete to fuck off and run away before he fucks this all up, but Mikey would fucking kill him and Frank would probably looked crushed and Gerard doesn’t want to be the person who makes Frank look like that.

“Just turn the fucking song on, Mikey, I don’t give a fuck if you don’t think it’s appropriate enough,” Frank says, frowning.

“Oh excuse me, Frank, for not thinking that Closer by Nine Inch Nails is a good lap dance song,” Mikey retorts, tone dry, and Gerard snorts a laugh.

Frank shrugs, “It’s fitting.”

Someone, Patrick, starts laughing, “You heard the man, play it, Mikey.”

“Oh my god, are you serious right now-”

“Mikey, just play the song,” Gerard mutters, staring directly at his thigh.

“Gee, you have actually _heard_ the song, right?”

“Fucks sake, dude!” Pete exclaims, and Patrick starts laughing harder. There’s a brief commotion and someone yells, “Ow, you dick!”, but the song finally starts. 

Frank grins triumphantly down at Gerard as the beginning notes slide out of nearby speakers, and Gerard automatically grins back, momentarily enjoying being the center of Frank’s attention. Then the grin slides off Frank’s face and is replaced by the determined expression from earlier and Gerard almost starts to shake.

Frank places his hands on Gerard’s shoulders and slowly swings his hips. Gerard’s mouth goes dry, and he rasps out a breath as Frank steps closer, stopping when he’s nearly straddling Gerard.

Swinging his hips in time with the music Gerard’s nearly tuned out, Frank lowers himself onto Gerard’s lap, biting down on his lip ring, and Gerard gets so swept up with the need to kiss him that he’s halfway to Frank’s mouth before he catches himself.

The song comes flooding back into Gerard’s ears just as the chorus hits and Frank grinds down onto him, providing the friction Gerard didn’t realize he’d needed.

Frank leans forward, putting his mouth up to Gerard’s ear, and Gerard decides he doesn’t fucking care about Frank feeling his boner as Frank half whispers half sings, “I want to fuck you like an animal,” while skimming his hands down to settle on Gerard’s hips and grinding down like Frank’s actually fucking him. Gerard throws his head back, gasping, eyes fluttering shut, and uses all of his remaining will to not grab onto Frank.

“I want to feel you from the inside,” Frank pants, still singing, as he lifts up off of Gerard in an effort to realign their hips, and the next thing Gerard feels is Frank’s tongue on his neck as he grinds back down on Gerard, and a moan is ripped out of him before he can even think about it.

The tongue turns into a mouth, and Gerard’s eyes fly open an instant before another moan is drug out of him by Frank biting down over his pulse and sucking, “Oh, god,” Gerard rasps out, voice shot, “Oh, god. _Frank_ ,” and then his hands are on him, one on Frank’s hip and the other in Frank’s hair, pulling him closer, and Frank’s not stopping him. Frank doesn’t stop him. Frank just hums and moves his way down to suck on Gerard’s clavicle, hips still moving in time to the music.

The song fades out before Frank is done with Gerard’s clavicle, but he resignedly gives Gerard’s neck one last lick before pulling off, “Pete,” he growls, staring into Gerard’s eyes with pupils blown so wide all Gerard can see is black, “Get the fuck out.”

“Glad you guys are boyfriends now and all but please keep the fucking confined to that chair, I want to be able to sit down here again,” Pete whines, and the flare of irritation Gerard had felt earlier comes back,

“Pete, you’ll be lucky if we don’t fuck on your bed.” Gerard flatly states, and is rewarded with the sound of a door opening, Pete calling out, “Mikey, I fucking hate you!” and a door shutting.

“So,” Frank says, still seated on Gerard’s lap, and Gerard freezes, “you come here often?” 

The tension Gerard didn’t realize was built up in him dissolves out of him, and he smiles at Frank before throwing all of his leftover anxiety to the wind and leaning in to kiss him. Frank meets him halfway, hands rising to cup Gerard’s jaw, head tilted, and as soon as their lips meet, Gerard melts into Frank. 

Frank threads his fingers through Gerard’s hair, and gives a sharp pull at the same time he runs his tongue over Gerard’s bottom lip. Gerard gasps and Frank takes the opportunity to push his tongue inside and curl it around Gerard’s, sucking gently. Gerard moans and pulls away from Frank, sucking in ragged breaths, “Frank,” he whispers, resting his forehead against Frank’s, “I need, I-I need-Frank, Frank,” he finally manages, and Frank nods like he understands perfectly what it is Gerard is trying to get across.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Frank says, and when Gerard nods, he snakes a hand in between them and palms Gerard through his pants. 

Gerard’s head lolls back and he groans, and almost comes immediately when Frank sticks a hand down his pants and starts to jerk him off.

“So beautiful,” Frank whispers against Gerard’s throat, and bites down on top of the mark that he left, and Gerard stops trying to hold on; his vision whites out and when he comes back down, his shirt is sticky and Frank is slumped over him, head resting on Gerard’s shoulder, breathing heavily.

“Do you- do you need me to do something?” Gerard eventually asks, licking his lips.

Frank doesn’t lift head, but Gerard is pretty sure he’s shaking his head, and then because his anxiety and nerves haven’t found their way back, he takes a deep breath and says, “I think I’m in love with you,” Oh fuck his orgasm stupid brain, “No, no wait that’s not what I meant,” but the damage is already done and he feels Frank grow completely still.

“Frank?”

“Gerard,” Frank says after sometime, tone neutral, lifting his head, “How long?”

Gerard can feel himself blush, and he bites his lip, “Um, eight years?”

Frank looks at him, searching his face for something, and Gerard thinks he’s found it because Frank has the beginnings of a smile on his face, “You’ve been in love with me since we were fourteen?” Frank asks and Gerard nods, “Gee, I’ve been in love with you for five.”

Gerard grins so wide he's half afraid he’ll split his face, but Frank beams back at him.

“We should do this again sometime.” Frank says, wiggling his eyebrows, and Gerard laughs before vainly attempting to shove Frank off his lap.

“Go get your shirt,” Gerard states, fighting off his grin, “We’ve gotta go fuck in Pete’s bed.”

(For what it’s worth, they do, eventually, fuck in Pete’s bed.)

**Author's Note:**

> now there is a lap dance fic for u to find thru the tag. yeah, it's not the best, and yeah there's a lot of fucking paragraphs, idgaf i love it.


End file.
